


a journalist falls in love with death row inmate #16

by dimpledannie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Crazy, Dan Howell/Phil Lester Fluff, Insanity, Journalism, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Murder, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-08-24 09:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimpledannie/pseuds/dimpledannie
Summary: (Based off of the song "A journalist falls in love with death row inmate #16" by Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos)Dan Howell is a well-respected journalist for the BBC. He's currently working on a series of mini-documentaries about criminals who've done petty crimes - theft, manslaughter, stalking - when he decides to interview a criminal named Phil Lester. Beneath the obvious psychopathy, Dan can see kindness deep down inside Phil. Which is a problem: Phil is a serial killer, and he's on death row.TRIGGER WARNINGS: Serial killers. Violence. Murders. Death. NO DESCRIPTIONS OF ACTUAL MURDERS.A/N: I know the death penalty was banished in the UK, but this is an AU and I had to do something with this song. I haaaaad to.





	1. prologue

"I suppose, if I could go back and change what I did... not hit my 'ma with my car, I would. It's awfully lonely here without her." 

Dan Howell sighed under his breath, nodding to his producer that they were done. His producer, in turn, motioned to the cameraman to stop rolling. 

"One last thing Mr. Jeffrey, could you state your name and crime to the camera once more?" PJ - the cameraman - asked. 

"Of course, of course. My name's Curtis Jeffrey and I'm in prison for drunk driving and the involuntary manslaughter of my 'ma." Mr. Jeffrey deadpanned. Shortly after, he was escorted out by his prison guard, stopping to shake Dan's hand. "It's been a pleasure, Sir. Thanks for hearing my story." Dan gave a tight lipped smile in return. It wasn't much of a story to begin with: the bloke had a few drinks, went to drive his car to the store, and accidentally ran over his mum as she was running out to stop him. A tear jerker, sure, but it was an accident. There was no motive to dig into, no real reason for it happening. It was more of a cautionary "don't drink and drive" tale than anything else. 

Once Mr. Jeffrey was out of earshot, Dan gave an exasperated sigh to PJ and to Louise, his producer. "What the bloody hell was that?" 

"I thought it was a beautiful, sad story," Louise said, scribbling something in her notebook. "Very heartfelt." 

PJ nodded in agreement. "I was able to get some amazing b-roll shots from his brother of him and his mum as a child," he said. "Sure to add some real drama to the piece." 

"That's the thing," Dan said. He stood up and began to pace around the room. "He was sorry for what he did. Every criminal we've talked to is sorry for what they did. I need one who's not."

"You want an unapologetic criminal?" PJ said, his arms folded against his chest defensively. 

"Yes! Louise, tell me you can find me one of those." Dan pleaded. 

"The BBC's audience won't like an unapologetic criminal, Dan," Louise replied. 

"Well, I'm getting tired of the normal ones. 'Oh, I'm sorry I tried to shoplift that diamond necklace', 'I feel bad that I stalked my ex-boyfriend until he killed himself', I need something more raw. More exciting." Dan had begun helping PJ tear down his filming equipment, carefully placing the large Sony NX3 cameras back in their bags. PJ chuckled, unscrewing the tripod one of the cameras had been sat on. "That's why they call you Howling Howell," he said. "Because you're _howling_ mad. You want a real psychopath, don't you?" 

Dan smiled. "You bet your arse I do. Louise, can you talk to Dodie about getting that done for our next instalment?" Dodie was their chase producer, and the BBC's youngest intern. She was the one who had been finding Dan all of his fluffy, petty crime criminals. 

"Do you think she's ready to find such a, er, intense interview subject?" Louise asked. "Have you seen the girl? She's so innocent." 

"She managed to get an internship straight out of Uni at the BBC, didn't she? I think she's perfectly capable," Dan retorted.

Their equipment was all packed up, so the trio loaded it all into their shoulders and began carrying it out to the studio van. "I'm telling you, an aggressive, real criminal is exactly what this series needs," Dan said. He stuck out his hand to PJ, who tossed him the keys to the van. After loading everything in the back, Dan climbed into the drivers seat and turned to look at PJ in the passenger seat. "Do you really think I'm mad for wanting a good story?" He asked, a tinge of offence in his voice. 

PJ laughed. "Absolutely, Howell. Completely and utterly mad. But you know what?" 

"What?" 

"Sometimes the best people are mad."


	2. one

_one week later_

Dan strolled into the bustling BBC building with a caramel macchiato in one hand and his work ID in the other. He flashed it to the security guard cockily, as he had done every morning for the past 7 years working at the BBC. 

Dan was one of the lucky few who was hired at a young age. Most journalists have to complete countless unpaid internships before they can land a salary position, but Dan began full-time at the young age of 21, making him the youngest multi-platform journalist the BBC had ever hired. 

Until Dodie.

Dodie Clark was 22-years-old and had graduated university only months before when she landed her position as a chase producer intern. Of course, she was given the position by her father, but she still had to complete the rigorous hiring process. Dan felt a slight pang of jealousy whenever people praised Dodie for being so accomplished and so young, but he tried to brush it off. Besides, he _liked_ Dodie. She truly was brilliant for her age.

"Morning, Mr. Howell!" She chirped from the briefing table. She had her notebook in front of her and numerous newspaper clippings strewn about. PJ and Louise were just getting in as well. "Hello, hello, hello," he said, each one aimed at a separate member of the team.

Shortly after, Chris Kendall, the Associate Editor, sat at the head of the table and the meeting began. 

"So, let's cut the small talk. How's the Jeffrey piece coming along?" Chris said, addressing nobody in particular. 

"Fairly well," PJ piped up. "I've handed all the footage over to Tyler in editing, just waiting on an update now. I suppose it should be ready by the end of the day tomorrow." 

"I'm going to need an 'I'm certain', not an 'I suppose'. Got it, Liguori?" Chris snapped. PJ nodded, looking slightly deflated. He had only begun as a part-time camera operator a few months ago and was desperately trying to climb up the seniority ladder. As soon as an editing position opened up, he would always tell Dan, he'll jump on it. Dan always promised to put in a good word. 

"Right. How about this week's project? Over in TV they just covered an armed robbery at Tesco and guess what the weapon was? _A banana._ Bloke is facing a few months in jail for armed robbery when it was a _bloody banana!_ That's hilarious. Louise I hope you're writing this down..." 

Louise nodded enthusiastically at Chris, turning her notebook ever so slightly to nudge Dan's elbow. When he looked down, she had written _"Yeah fucking right"._

"So I hope you'll go talk to Maria in TV and get the info. We should be able to catch him as he's being transferred to the jail. Alright? Dismissed." 

Dan opened his mouth to protest but no sound came out. Dodie looked at him with a pleading expression. As brilliant as she was, she couldn't stand up to the boss. She could barely speak to him, or anyone except Dan and Louise for that matter. When it came to chasing interview subjects, however, Dodie was a Queen. 

"Actually, Sir, we have an additional idea we'd like to run past you," Dan interjected, stopping Chris mid-movement as he was standing up. Chris cocked an eyebrow, sitting back down. "Go on." 

"Well..." he looked to Dodie to see if this was her moment to shine. She shook her head quickly. "Erm, we - I, rather, want to do something more intense with the series. I feel like our audience has seen enough of the 'tame' criminals and are ready to see something more..." he paused to think of the best word to describe it. "...tantalizing." 

"I'm listening..." Chris replied, seemingly intrigued. 

"Perhaps, I don't know, a rapist, or a mob leader, or a serial killer. Someone more intense and more captivating. What do you think?" For the first time in over seven years, Dan truly felt nervous at what the response would be. 

"Mmm...." Chris mused, sucking on his teeth. "I don't know that I love it right now. Let's come back to it, though, maybe in two weeks? For now I'll get Maria to send you over the address for the jail transfer." Chris shrugged off Dan's pitch, finally getting up from the table and leaving. Dodie, PJ, and Louise all looked to Dan, disappointed. 

Dan was angry. He'd spent years listening to Chris and doing whatever he asked of Dan, throwing away perfectly good story ideas because Chris _"didn't love them right now"._ He'd had enough of it. 

He took a deep breath to stabilize his anger and turned to Dodie. "What have you got for me?" 

"But, Mr. Kendall said-" 

"Screw him. I've been working in news for seven years, I know what the people want." 

Dodie gulped. "Alright. Well, he's not an official criminal, his case is still under investigation, but he's currently in a psychiatric facility and they've said we can come in today for a pre-interview with him." She picked up a newspaper article and handed it to Dan. "This is the one I really like the sound of. I think it's right along with what you said you wanted in a piece. But if you don't like it, I can keep looking." 

Dan read the newspaper clipping quickly, searching for the good information. 

_An update in the Manchester Murderer case has arisen: a possible suspect has been arrested on suspicion of murder conspiracy. Thirty-one year old Phillip Michael Lester of Manchester was transferred to St. Theresa's Psychiatric Hospital late Thursday evening. Lester is reported to be related to the murder victims, but this has not been confirmed as of yet. Lester firmly denied any involvement in the murders at the time of his arrest. However, the story has changed and Lester is now allegedly taking full responsibility for the murders. Lester has been revealed to be suffering from a variety of debilitating mental illnesses, making his conviction in this shocking serial murder case nearly impossible at this time. For further information, refer to our website to follow the story in real time._

Dan smiled proudly at Dodie. "I love it. What time did they say we can come by at?" 

Dodie blinked incredulously at Dan. "You like it? Think we should do it?" 

Dan nodded. "Yes. Absolutely. Louise, mind helping PJ gather the camera equipment? I'm going to run over some info with Dodie. Regroup in 15?" 

Louise nodded. Both her and PJ turned on their heels and went in the direction of the equipment room, excitedly mumbling about the new project. 

"Do you have a photograph of him?" Dan asked. 

"Um, I should, yeah," Dodie mumbled, fumbling through her piles of papers. "Here." She handed Dan a black and white photograph of the man. 

Dan was taken aback. Attraction to criminals was a common phenomenon: Charles Manson had fangirls, loads of women flocked after Justin Bieber when his mugshot was released, people have dedicated entire cults to worshipping criminals because they found them attractive. But Dan had never been attracted to any of them - until this one. 

This man, Phillip Michael Lester, was something else. Even though the photo was black and white, Dan felt captivated by his eyes. The man looked like he had been crying in the mugshot; his eyes were quite puffy and the circles under them stood out shockingly. His hair was dishevelled and sticking up in odd places. 

But Dan thought he was unbelievably attractive. 

This was going to be a problem. 


	3. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan meets Philip Lester.

En route to the psychiatric facility, the receptionist asked Dan and the crew to come a little bit later than originally planned. "Mr. Lester is, er, not in the best position at the moment, but he's asked that you lot come in later so as to not disappoint you by missing the interview." she'd said. Dan felt a little pang in his chest at the idea of a _criminal_ not wanting to disappoint him. 

The group headed to a cafe nearby to kill some time and draw up a game plan for the morning. It was Dodie's first time heading out into the field with the team. Dan didn't think she was ready for it yet, but figured she had to get over her fears sooner rather than later. He noticed her nervously chewing on the lid of her coffee cup as PJ and Louise discussed filming specifics. 

"What are you nervous about?" Dan asked. 

"I...I've never met a criminal before." Dodie chuckled. "It's a bit of a silly thing to be nervous about, but I've read a lot of articles about Philip Lester's case and it's... intense, to say the least." 

"Why don't you tell us a bit more about it, love?" Louise cooed. She spoke so softly and so motherly to Dodie, using the same gentle tone that she used with her young daughter. It always seemed to put Dodie at ease. 

Dodie nodded, pulling out her notebook and flipping to the most recent page, covered in doodles and point form facts about Philip Lester. "Well, he's being accused of four counts of first degree murder and two counts of voluntary manslaughter. Two of the murder victims are supposedly his family; his dad and his uncle. When his parent's neighbours reported a domestic disturbance that's when the police arrested him, and while in custody they connected him to the four other murders. At first he was denying them, but eventually he gave in and started admitting to them. They’re saying he’s mentally ill but not much else has been released about that yet. It’s still a very fresh case.” 

Before anybody could respond, Dodie’s phone rang.

“Dodie Clark! Mhm. Absolutely, we’ll be on our way then. Thank you!” 

Dan looked at her expectantly.

“He’s ready for us now.” 

* 

The lobby of the psychiatric facility was brightly lit and the walls were a pale grey colour. The space was eerily silent, the only sound being the echoing of fingernails clicking against keyboards and the footsteps of Dan, Louise, Dodie, and PJ as they entered the lobby. PJ had his camera bag slung over his shoulder; he figured bringing all of his equipment in wouldn’t be allowed for their pre-interview. 

“You must be the BBC folks,” one of the receptionists called from behind the large, rounded desk. It was rather high, Dodie almost needed to stand on her toes to see over it. Several signs were taped along the outside of the desk that read **‘PATIENTS WHO ATTEMPT TO JUMP OVER THE DESK WILL BE RESTRAINED AND PUNISHED ACCORDINGLY’**. Dodie shot Dan a worried look. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“That we are,” Louise answered. “I’m Louise Pentland, producer.” She reached a hand over the desk. The receptionist shook Louise’s hand lightly. “Pleasure, I’m Brenda” she responded. 

“I’ll have all of you sign in here and then I’ll grab you visitors passes. Once Maria, Mr. Lester’s nurse, returns from her break, I’ll have her bring you to the visitors room,” Brenda stated. “Unfortunately, only two visitors are permitted at a time, and until Mr. Lester consents and it is determined that filming won’t trigger him in any way, no filming is allowed.” Brenda frowned, eyeing PJs camera bag. 

Dan nodded. “Of course. Louise, would you like to join me then?” he asked. Louise nodded before turning to PJ and Dodie to give them instructions on what to do in the meantime.

After everybody signed in, Maria gathered Dan and Louise just outside the visitors room to prepare them for the visit. The door had a small rectangular window made of security glass with wire mesh inside. Louise was already peering inside, but Dan was too nervous. He was about to meet the man from the mugshot. 

“I won’t tell you two how to do your jobs, but please avoid asking Mr. Lester direct questions about the allegations against him at this time,” Maria began. “We’re still in the process of analyzing his behaviour and we aren’t sure what his triggers are yet. Do not touch him or let him touch you. If at any point he makes you feel uncomfortable, let me know and we’ll end the interview. And please, switch your cell phones off.” Dan and Louise pulled out their phones to turn them off, but Dan flicked on his voice recording app instead and returned his phone to his coat pocket with a tight lipped smile. Recording people without their permission isn’t the most ethical thing to do, but Dan had been interviewing people for far too long. His morals were slightly tainted. Besides, if he told himself he was only recording their meeting for “note-taking” purposes, he wouldn’t feel as bad. 

Dan didn’t know what exactly he was expecting upon seeing Philip Lester for the first time, but it certainly wasn’t this. Philip was sitting on the windowsill of the visitors room with his knees pulled up to his chest, two brightly coloured mismatching socks on either foot, and his wild head of jet black hair sticking up all over the place. He looked peaceful, gazing out the window, and definitely not like a criminal. Not yet, at least.

When the door opened he turned to face the trio, his gaze falling to each person before stopping on Dan, lingering just slightly longer than the others before turning to look at Maria again. “Is this the news crew?” he asked, his mouth curling into a sinister looking smile. Maria didn’t answer, instead she asked “Mr. Lester, why aren’t you wearing your slippers?” 

“I hate them,” he answered simply, sliding down from the windowsill and looking at his socked feet. “They hide my awesome socks.” He snapped his head back up to stare at Dan, his intense blue eyes boring into Dan’s soul. 

Dan couldn’t speak. He figured seeing the handsome mugshot man in real life would feel a little shocking, but he couldn’t have imagined it would feel anything like this. He wasn’t scared at having this alleged criminal stare at him so intently, but rather, he felt flattered. He felt warmth quickly creeping across his cheeks and his palms grew clammy. He tried to make the feeling go away by shooting the man a professional smile and following Maria and Louise to the table they were getting situated at, but it did nothing. Those blue eyes followed Dan as he fumbled with his coat zipper and sat down directly across from their gaze. 

Dan tried to compose himself and ignore the myriad of feelings he was experiencing. “So, Mr. Lester-”

“ _Phil,_ ” he corrected cockily. “I prefer Phil.” 

Dan forced himself not to smirk at the overconfident tone in the man’s voice. “Phil. We’d just like to tell you a little bit about the project we’re working on, and see if you have any questions for us before we ask you some questions. Would that be alright?”

Phil nodded. 

Dan gestured to Louise to take over the conversation while he began taking notes. While Louise walked Phil through the outline of the mini-doc series, Dan couldn’t help but notice that blue eyes kept drifting back in his direction, taking in everything about his appearance. After Louise finished going through the plan, she asked Phil if he had any questions. After a few moments of silence, with Phil’s brow furrowed and his face contorted into confusion, he spoke, and his voice sounded almost… timid. 

“So, you want to do a piece about... about what I did?” 

Louise and Dan exchanged a glance and nodded in unison. “Exactly. Or, rather, what you _allegedly_ did. The series is meant to explore the mind of, um...” Louise hesitated on saying the word _criminal_. 

“Criminals,” Phil finished, almost having read her mind, the confidence returning to his voice. He locked his gaze on Dan, that sinister smile returning to his lips. “That’s what I am, innit? A criminal. I’m the perfect subject for your little movie.” He swayed his upper body side to side teasingly. 

His words seemed to challenge Dan to prove himself worthy. “ _Documentary_ , actually. But yes, we think you’d be an excellent subject, and if you agree we’d love to hear a little more about-“ Dan was cut off by an aggressive cough from Maria. She shot him a look that said _don’t mention the murders_. “...about you.” he finished. 

Phil threw his head back with a menacing laugh. “About _me_? You’ll have to be a little more specific, darling. What do you want to know about me?” he leaned across the table and brushed his fingers gently against Dan’s hand, which earned him a yell from Maria. “No touching, Philip.”

“It’s Phil.” He grumbled, slumping back against his chair, but with a slight smile as he looked back at Dan, pleased to have gotten a rise out of somebody in the room.

It was too late, though. Dan felt something, something he shouldn’t be feeling. A spark, if you will. A cliché moment of fireworks. A tingle that shot from his fingertips straight through his entire body. And he was sure Phil could see that he felt it. Maybe he felt it, too. 

“Sorry, I just can’t resist an innocent boy.” Phil cooed, shooting Dan another eerie smile. 

Maria huffed and turned to face Dan. “Mr. Howell, if Phil is making you uncomfortable you can leave.” 

Dan shoot his head, leaning further into the table to make eye contact with Phil. “Are you interested in the project, Phil?”

Dan studied Phil’s face intently. That eerie smile was still resting on his lips; it was enough to put any terrifying mass murderer to shame. It made the hair on Dan’s arms raise. Phil’s eyes bore into Dan’s soul, creeping through every fiber of his being, searching for a weakness he could prey on. But there was something else behind those eyes.

Kindness.

Dan saw it when Phil defended his choice to not wear his slippers so he could show off his “awesome socks”. In the way his whole body looked guilty when he asked if they were doing their documentary on what he was being accused of. In the way the condescending words that rolled off his tongue sounded forced and out of place. In the way he asked Dan and his crew to meet with him later because he didn’t want to disappoint them. Something different was there.

Phil leaned forward as well, careful not to touch any part of Dan this time and pulling him from his thoughts. “Anything for you, love.” 

* 

“That was bloody terrifying, Dan,” Louise said once the door to the visitors room was closed. After determining a day to come back for further discussion of the project with Phil and his psychiatrist and lawyer, Louise and Dan left the room while Maria stayed with Phil for a post-interview assessment. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

“Yes,” Dan snapped. He didn’t even need to think about it. Phil was exactly what he had been looking for in an interview subject; he was dynamic with his speech, he was bold, he was aggressive. He was sure to look great on camera and make for a fascinating piece. And, Dan just wanted to see him again. He was so enthralled by the idea of this man. Completely captivated by the kindness he saw behind those blue orbs. He wanted to learn more about him, about his case…

About the people he allegedly murdered. 

“He’s perfect.” Dan said. The tone of finality was clear in his voice. He wasn’t going to be persuaded otherwise. 

Louise sighed and tucked her notebook back into her purse. “You know best, Daniel.” 

* 

That night, as Dan was getting ready for bed, he played the recording of his meeting with Phil. He brushed his teeth and washed his face to the chilling sound of Phil’s voice, sending shivers down Dan’s spine with each syllable he spoke. There was one sentence Dan couldn’t help but replay over and over again as he crawled beneath his bedsheets and snuggled up to his pillow. Even as he shut off his phone and began drifting off to sleep, the phrase replayed over and over and over again in Dan’s mind. 

_“Anything for you, love.”_


	4. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil lashes out.

_”Dan!”_

“Hm? What?”

“I said, what happened with the banana robber yesterday?”

Dan paused. His eyes flicked to PJ, Louise, and Dodie around the meeting table as he desperately hoped one of them would speak up and answer for him. None of them did, as usual. They were too scared. Buggers.

None of them had told Chris that they hadn’t pursued his Tesco banana robbery idea for a story, and he didn’t know that they spent the better part of the morning and afternoon storyboarding and researching the Lester case. Dan was so captivated by the whole story that he forgot to think up an excuse as to why they didn’t follow Chris’s direction.

Shit.

“Erm, well…” Dan cleared his throat and racked his brain for an excuse. “Police had the place totally blocked off, and media were already all over. You know the type - tiny news stations trying to prove themselves worthy - could barely even see anything. And the bloke was gone by the time we got there.” The lie trickled out of his mouth, apparently sounding believable enough for Chris to huff and shrug it off as a ‘missed opportunity’.

Dan had been in a daze ever since he’d gotten home the night before and started re-playing the audio from his meeting with Phil. He couldn’t get Phil’s voice out of his head. It was like a Phil-shaped tumour was swelling and growing in his brain. He couldn’t shake his image, his eyes ripping apart Dan’s entire body, the brief moment of physical contact they’d had. It was all so overwhelming.

After discussing a few other fluffy story ideas that seemed to pique Chris’s interest and deciding to meet again in a week once the Jeffrey piece was finished and ready to air, Dan sulked back to his desk to do some more research.

He was quickly becoming obsessed with this story. By the time Louise popped by his desk for them to have lunch together, Dan had at least twenty open tabs on his computer. Google searches for ‘philip lester’ and ‘lester family manchester’ and ‘why do people kill’. Article after article about Phil’s case. Even an interview with a woman who claimed she was in love with the man who murdered her brother.

During their whole lunch break, Dan felt spaced out. He nodded and laughed during the pauses while Louise told him the latest story about her daughter, but he wasn’t really there. His mind was in the psychiatric facility, sitting across from ocean eyes.

A sudden call from Dodie tore him from that place and dragged him back to real life.

“Hello!” he chimed, thankful for the distraction.

“Hi Dan! Um, the psychiatric facility just called me. They said Philip Lester requested to see you. He’s throwing some sort of fit and told the nurses that he won’t cooperate unless he sees you.” Dodie said.

Huh. “Really?” Dan asked incredulously.

“Yeah, they said you don’t have to come if you’re busy or don’t want to, but-”

“I’ll be there. Tell them I’m on my way.”

* 

The same nurse as the day before - Maria - let Dan into the visitor’s room immediately after he arrived and signed in. She kept a watchful eye on Phil as she sat herself across the room from them. Phil had requested they sit at the table alone.

“Ah, my BBC boy,” Phil said. His signature eerie smirk played on his lips, but Dan knew it was an act. His eyes were sullen as if he hadn’t slept and his voice sounded raspy and raw. He looked exhausted.

Dan fought the urge to feel sorry for him, reminding himself of what he had read in one of the many articles he’d been looking at - psychopaths draw you in, make you pity them, and then they pounce on you once your walls have come down. He didn’t know if Phil was a psychopath, but he could assume; psychopaths kill people, normal people don’t.

“Phil. How are you today?” Dan asked politely. His voice recorder was once again turned on. He didn’t want to miss out on anything Phil said.

“Just fucking _peachy_ ,” Phil spat. He glared across the room at Maria, who gave him a sympathetic look. “Do you know what it’s like to feel like this, Dan?”

Dan blinked. Of course he didn’t. He didn’t even know what feeling Phil was referring to.

“To feel like you’re trapped. Like a caged animal,” Phil’s eyes darted around the room like he was looking for an escape plan. “They’re listening.”

Dan honestly couldn’t tell if this was part of the act Phil was putting on or if it was legitimate. Either way, it didn’t sit right with him.

“Dan,” Phil said. The (what Dan assumed to be) forced eerie smirk returned. “Do you ever feel like you don’t have a personality?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you ever feel like you don’t _exist_? Like you’re just… part of the fucking void. None of this is real. I’m not real. I’m here to kill and take lives away and then I’ll go too and the world won’t miss me but that’s fine, I don’t want to be missed.”

Dan sighed. He really couldn’t tell what was going on now. Something in the way Phil spoke tugged at his heart painfully and he couldn’t handle it. He decided to cut the bullshit and get to the bottom of this. “Phil, why did you ask me to come in? You said you won’t cooperate unless I’m here. What do you want from me?”

Phil looked taken aback. His eyes flicked to Maria, betrayed. Phil probably didn’t want Dan to know that he’d asked for him; probably didn’t want to tarnish his tough, uncaring reputation.

“He won’t eat.” Maria huffed, clearly tired of playing this game with Phil. She looked like she hadn’t slept much, either.

“Do you want to be part of our film, Phil?” Dan asked softly. The exchange was starting to make him feel uneasy. He felt anxious and scared and sick and sympathetic and attracted to Phil all at once and it was making his head spin in circles.

Phil nodded.

“Then please, eat. If you don’t behave properly, they won’t let us film you.” Dan knew the ultimate deciding factor in their filming permission would be once the nurses determined that it wouldn’t be a trigger for Phil, but he thought one white lie couldn’t hurt.

Phil smiled. A real, genuine one this time, that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and his lips stretch across his face in a way that didn’t make Dan’s skin crawl. “Okay, I’ll eat.”

* 

Two weeks later, after meetings with lawyers, nurses, family members, doctors, and psychiatrists, Phil was deemed ready to start filming. His main psychiatrist, Dr. Gadley, determined it might actually be therapeutic for Phil to talk about what happened. His lawyers thought it might be a good chance for them to get some additional information on the case. Everything was falling nicely into place.

Except for the fact that Dan’s team hadn’t met Phil’s family, and they were fighting to get the BBC to cease production on the film.

Phil’s mum in particular was not happy whatsoever with the idea of the BBC “exploiting” her son’s mental instability. She penned an open letter to the BBC calling the team “heartless” and “money-hungry”. Dan wanted so badly to reach out to her and explain that he could never exploit her son - her oddly enchanting son - but the BBC’s lawyers advised against it. They said that once Mrs. Lester was willing to play nice they could set up a meeting.

Chris eventually found out about the secret project during an evaluation meeting with Dodie. She proved to be pretty horrible at keeping secrets. Dan, in turn, received a stern talking to from Chris, who gave the team the green light to continue the project, provided that it didn’t distract them from continuing to produce fluffy pieces that were approved by Chris for regular airing. When Dan asked PJ if he’d be willing to put in some extra hours helping edit footage, he nearly cried with happiness. So far, so good.

The team had upgraded from the general visiting room to a private room on the third floor that was normally used for group therapy sessions. They had one of the facility’s navy blue armchairs set up and lit for Phil, and positioned the camera to frame the shot so the barred, prison-style window could be seen just over Phil’s shoulder.

They decided to interview Phil in his hospital pajamas rather than having him wear street clothes so as not to humanize him. If their audience would already be upset by a serial killer piece, Dan didn’t want to further upset them by making Phil seem like anything more dignified than a criminal. His light blue hospital pajamas with **DO NOT APPROACH** printed across the back and brightly coloured **FLIGHT RISK** and **VIOLENT TENDENCIES** wristbands would have to do.

Phil had his cocky, creepy persona plastered on while the team had been setting up the room for filming. He sauntered over to Dan on more than one occasion to try and belittle what he was doing, but Dan rejected his attempts to bother him. Maria kept telling Dan not to be afraid to tell Phil off if he was being too rude.

“We don’t think it’ll be a trigger, but it’ll be nice to see what his reaction will be anyway,” she’d said. “If he’s bothering you, call him out.”

When the cameras started rolling, Dan asked Phil introduce himself and his alleged crimes to the camera.

“My name is Phil Lester, and I’ve killed people,” he said.

He sounded proud of himself. Dan fought the urge to roll his eyes. Over the past two weeks, he’d gotten to speak with Phil a bit more. He’d gone to visit Phil again, alone (to have him sign media release paperwork, but also so he would have an excuse to visit and record his voice again), and even had a phone call with him at Phil’s request.

The call came in the evening. It was Maria, pleading with Dan to talk to Phil because he wouldn’t take his medication. “He’ll listen to you. I don’t know why, but he will.”

She was right. As soon as Phil got on the phone, Dan simply said “Take your medication, Phil,” and could practically hear the smile in his voice as Phil replied “Okay, I will.”

They stayed on the phone for a few minutes while Dan asked mundane questions about how Phil was doing, if he’d had any visitors, what they served for lunch that day. Phil sounded sleepy and dazed, not a hint of his cocky voice was present.

At the end of their call, Phil was silent for a moment. Dan thought he’d already handed the phone back to Maria and was about to hang up when a timid voice he barely recognized as Phil’s said “Thank you, Dan. This meant a lot to me.” followed by the dial tone.

It was just a phone call, but it was so intimate. It left Dan with so many questions about who Phil really was when he wasn’t trying to scare people. It left even more questions circulating as to why Phil has killed people when he’s capable of such delicate kindness.

“How many people?” Dan asked, snapping back to reality.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy?” Phil leered. “One of them was my dad. His brother, too. Maybe a store clerk. Maybe a drug dealer. They got what was coming to ‘em. Call me karma.”

“You’re being accused of four counts of first degree murder and two counts of involuntary manslaughter. Is that true?” Dan read off his notebook, scribbled notes and questions littered the page it was opened to.

Phil looked surprised again, like he couldn’t possibly believe Dan knew that information, despite the fact that it was plastered all over every news network in England. It stayed only for a brief second before the leer reappeared. “Maybe it is, maybe it’s not. All you need to know is that I enjoyed hurting them.”

The back and forth continued like this - Dan asking simple questions, trying to lead Phil into longer answers than what he was giving. After about 10 minutes of the same rehearsed sounding _”Wouldn’t you like to know?”_ and _”Maybe.”_ being repeated, Phil finally gave Dan something to work with, just not in the way he would have liked.

“You really are a pretty boy, you know?” Phil cooed. He looked at Dan through his eyelashes, his head bowed down so low Dan could barely see his pupils. “I wish you were one of my victims.”

“And why is that?” Dan drawled, growing bored of this game.

“Because,” Phil leaned forward, the same way he had done on the day they first met, and stared into Dan’s eyes with an extraordinary intensity. “I would have loved to watch you struggle.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dan slapped his notebook shut and waved to PJ to turn off the camera. “You know what, Phil? Enough. Enough of this creepy serial killer act. I know that’s not you.”

The screaming silence of the room filled Dan’s ears. PJ, Dodie, and Louise all looked at Dan with shock, as if to say _why the fuck are you suggesting that a serial killer isn’t fucking creepy?!_. Maria looked ready to leap into action if needed. Phil looked like someone had just slapped him across the face.

“I see right through the act. I minored in psychology and law, so I know how to spot a faker,” Dan was standing, one hand clenched into a fist and the other pointing wildly at Phil.

“You’re trying to get a rise out of me, and I don’t know why, but cut it out. Maybe you get off on getting people upset or something. I know you aren’t the tough guy you act like, I know there’s some good inside you. I can _feel_ it. For fuck sake, remember that night you called me? You don’t kill for fun, come off it. But you’re just a bloody _psychopath_ so you won’t let the good show.” Dan let out a heavy breath. He didn’t know where his rage came from, but it scared him. _He_ felt like the psychopath.

“I’m not a psychopath,” Phil whispered. Dan barely heard him over his own heaving breaths. Phil looked like he was going to cry.

Dan immediately felt horrible. He wanted to inhale the ugly words he’d just let out into the air. He wanted to take them back more than anything in that moment. “Phil, I-”

“Alright Philip, I think that’s enough for today,” Maria said, cutting Dan off.

Without warning, Phil’s entire demeanor changed. It was like somebody flicked a switch inside his head. In one swift motion he stood from the armchair, grabbed the nearest light with both hands, and swung it to the ground. It crashed right in front of Dan, little shards of glass sprinkling the ground around him. Nobody spoke a word.

The two security guards stationed outside sprung into the room, grabbing Phil by the arms within seconds of the outburst. He kicked his legs as a low, guttural scream escaped his body. “IT’S. PHIL! PHILIP IS DEAD!” he boomed.

Even though the men were nearly twice his size, Phil’s body thrashed so violently they had trouble restraining him. Halfway to the door, he stopped kicking and let his legs hang limp from his frail frame. He let his head fall back and Dan saw why; Maria had injected Phil with a sedative.

She removed the syringe from his bicep and nodded to the guards. “Take him to his room and stand guard until he wakes up, please.” They nodded in understanding.

Dan’s ears rang with a phrase over and over again as he wordlessly helped PJ and Louise clean up the broken light and tear down the equipment.

“You really are a pretty boy.”

It followed him home, into his bed, and stayed there as he cried himself to sleep, looping around his mind, refusing to leave him alone.


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan prepares to meet Kath. (bit of a filler, i'm sorryyyyy)

_Phil’s Diary - The Day After “The Filming Incident”_

_I got in a lot of trouble today because I broke a light. All I remember is deep brown and then bright white light and pain in my arm and then I was asleep. But the brown wasn’t like shit brown, it was like chocolate. Like the milk chocolate dad used to give me and Martyn when we were good boys. But I’m not a good boy anymore so nobody gives me chocolate except Dan. He doesn’t give me real chocolate, just his eyes._

_Dr. Maria says I’ve formed an unhealthy attachment to Dan because I see him as an escape route from my mind. My mind is so muddled and foggy I wouldn’t even know where to start if I was trying to escape it. So, I don’t think she’s telling the truth. But then again it’s hard to tell when anybody is telling the truth now._

_Mum called today. Dr. Maria told her about the filming incident and she got really upset. Not at me, but at Dan. She said it was his fault that I got so worked up and she yelled at Dr. Maria for letting the filming crew come in. I don’t think it was anybody’s fault, though. Just mine, because I’m not a good boy anymore._

_I wish Dan would call me and ask me more questions like before._

*

Dan hadn’t been himself since the filming incident.

On more than one occasion he’d picked up his desk phone and just listened to the dial tone, or stared at the dialing screen on his cell phone, trying to will himself to call the psychiatric facility just to hear someone other than the voice in his head say Phil’s name. Some days he felt like he had imagined the entire thing.

A week after the incident, on a particularly grey-feeling day, Dan received a call on his desk phone that wasn’t from an internal number - which was extremely bizarre, as nobody from outside the office ever called his desk phone directly. After three long, ominous rings, Dan picked up the phone.

“BBC, Daniel Howell speaking,” he said, trying his best to sound professional. Internal calls were almost always greeted with a cheery “You’ve got Dan!”, but an external call could be literally anybody. 

All Dan heard on the other end was a sharp intake of breath - like a gasp, but more gentle. More… timid.

“Erm… hello?” Dan said, confused. Who was calling?

“I… I was expecting to get your voicemail,” the voice on the other end said. It was a woman, was probably around his mum’s age by the sound it of, maybe a bit older. Her voice sounded like it was trying to be angry, but couldn’t. “I didn’t think I’d actually get through to you.”

“Well, um,” Dan stammered. He still had no clue who he was speaking with. Dumbfounded at his unprofessionality, he managed to spit out “Uh, who is this?”

“My name is Kathryn. Kathryn Lester. I’m Philip’s mother.”

Shit.

“I’d like to speak with you about Phil and the, er, _project_ you’ve been working on.”

Oh, _shit_.

“My lawyers were able to get me your contact information, if you were wondering. I have some things I’d like to discuss with you.”

Dan didn’t respond. 

“Would that be alright? If you’d rather have a formal legal meeting I can have it arranged, I’m sure…”

“N-no, that won’t be necessary,” Dan dropped his voice so nobody passing his desk would be able to hear. 

“Alright. How’s tomorrow sound? It’s Saturday, I suppose you won’t be working, hm?”

Dan forgot how to form words with his mouth. He could feel the blood draining from his face. Phil Lester’s mother - the mother whose son killed her husband, the same son who had made an oddly strong impression on Dan. She wanted to speak with Dan. About Phil. _Oh, my God._

Of course, Dan was intrigued. He had so many burning questions about Phil that he knew weren’t able to be answered by any of the medical staff at the facility. Nobody could possibly know Phil better than his own mother, surely. Right?

“Well, what do you say? I don’t bite, I promise.” Kathryn tittered. It seemed odd and inappropriate given the circumstances of the phone call. It was just odd enough to shake Dan from his daze; he nodded, then - remembering that he was speaking on the telephone and Kathryn couldn’t actually see him nod - replied “Yes, of course. Tomorrow works.”

“Lovely. Have you got a pen? I’ll give you my address then.” 

Dan obliged, writing down Kathryn’s address and saying he’d see her tomorrow. It wasn’t until he put the address into Google Maps that he realized, of course, that Kathryn still lived in Manchester and he’d have to drive all the way from London.

But, it was too late to back out now. Dan couldn’t help but feel electrified with curiosity - what did Kathryn want to talk to him about? Would she shout and curse at Dan? Would she break down and weep in his arms? Would she offer him a cup of tea and fondly show off Phil’s baby pictures? He wanted to find out. He _needed_ to find out. 

The four hour drive would have to do.

*

As Dan was packing a bag for the next day’s trip (containing his voice recorder, laptop, one of his older DSLR cameras, and a small tripod), a call came in from Louise.

“Daniel, darling,” Louise drolled. Dan could practically smell the red wine she was drinking. “Where on earth are you?”

Dan furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’m at my apartment,” he flopped onto his worn out corduroy sofa, situating himself comfortably in the crease he’d created with years of lazing about on his laptop. “What are you on about?”

Dan could hear the background noise - voices, laughter, and music - fade as Louise snuck into a quieter area. “It’s game night,” she hissed, a tinge of annoyance staining her previously light and bubbly tone. “With Chris, remember?”

 _Oh, come on._ “No, no, no,” Dan mumbled. “Isn’t that supposed to be next week?”

“No, Daniel, it’s happening right now and I can’t keep stalling for you, it’s been an hour already,” Louise sighed. “When are you going to be here? Chris is asking about you. He wants to talk to you about the Lester project.”

Since the filming incident, Dan had worked from home two days and spent his days in the office avoiding everybody - Louise, Chris, Dodie, PJ, Tyler, even the sweet intern who always offered to make him coffee in the mornings. He ate his lunch alone in his car, met his deadlines so nobody would bother him, and sulked home at 6 p.m. sharp every evening. 

The whole incident left him feeling rather weird. Or, what was really weird was the lack of emotion Dan was feeling. He wasn’t angry, even after Chris yelled at him about letting a “lunatic” break one of their good lights. He wasn’t sad when he didn’t get any follow up communication from Phil or Maria or any of the other nurses. He didn’t feel anything. And it was driving him up the wall.

Chris had sent him a few emails. One apologizing for being so harsh about the broken light, one with some story ideas for TV he wanted Dan to collaborate on, and a few others Dan hadn’t even bothered to open. He was only doing the bare minimum to keep his job.

“Dan, I swear to God,” Louise snapped. She’d been going on about Chris and Dan hadn’t absorbed a single word she said. He wasn’t there. “Are you coming or not?”

“No, sorry, ugh,” Dan sighed. He ran a hand over his eyes and up through his hair. How was he going to get out of this?

“You’d better have a good reason, then, or Chris’ll be pissed.”

“I… do have a good reason,” Dan retorted. “I’m going to meet with Kathryn Lester tomorrow, I need to leave early and can’t be out late drinking.”

Complete silence came from the other side of the phone. “Louise?”

“Yeah, sorry, but Dan, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Louise whisper-shouted. “Is that Lester’s mother? You’re meeting with her and you haven’t consulted me, your producer, or Chris, your damn _boss_ , or our lawyers, or-”

“Louise, fuck, lay off, alright?” Dan stood from the sofa and paced around it nervously. 

“Where are you meeting her?”

Dan paused, unsure if he should continue honestly or lie. “Her house. In Manchester.”

“Manchester!? Dan, seriously, what the fuck.”

“I don’t know, Lou, okay? I don’t fucking know,” Dan felt tears pricking his eyes. He was never good with confrontation. “I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I know I have to.” His voice cracked over the last few words and he heard Louise sigh sympathetically.

“Howling Howell, you’ve officially gone howling mad.”

*

That night, Phil came to Dan in his dreams. 

He’s dancing around the visitor’s room in mismatching pink and blue socks. “Dance with me, Dan,” he asks, and his voice is soft and light like the energy around him. He pulls Dan by the hand into the middle of the room, twirling him around like they were floating. A song is playing but Dan doesn’t know what it is called.

Phil leads Dan around the entire room, gliding like some sort of majestic, ethereal dream creature. Their feet aren't touching the ground. Dan feels like air. Everything looks like he’s viewing it through a kaleidoscope. 

Phil cradles his head in the crook of Dan’s neck. He whispers “Ask my mother about my father,” and he is gone.

Dan startled awake. He could still feel Phil’s breath on his neck.


End file.
